SONG

SONG

She sat and sang alway

     By the green margin of a stream,

Watching the fishes leap and play

     Beneath the glad sunbeam.

I sat and wept alway

     Beneath the moon’s most shadowy beam,

Watching the blossoms of the May

     Weep leaves into stream.

I wept for memory;

     She sang for hope that is so fair;

My tears were swallowed by the sea;

     Her songs died on the air.